A Fowl Christmas Special
by Rose Starre
Summary: Artemis Fowl II isn't too sure about the Christmas party his mother is throwing. All his friends are invited, but, no one else is, thanks to Artemis's pleading. (That summary is ultimately terrible.)


**A Fowl Christmas Special**

_Artemis Fowl II isn't too sure about the Christmas party his mother is throwing. All his friends are invited, but, no one else is, thanks to Artemis's pleading._

**Disclaimer: I own nothing. (I just wanted to say, that summary stunk like rotten eggs. So I'll say I'm completely responsible for that.)**

Artemis exhaled softly as he looked out the window. His friends were due any time now. He had been sitting at the same window, watching the drifting snowflakes, for hours. This was highly unusual.

The cause of this strange behavior was slightly difficult. To make a long story short(er), he was restless. Artemis wanted this little get-together to be over with, although it hadn't even started.

Finally, the fairies appeared. Foaly was attempting to hide under cam-foil, without much success. Holly reached over and tugged the cam-foil lower over his face. Sadly, that didn't help much.

Mulch looked about, as if innocent. Then, a few gold coins spilled out of his pockets. Luckily for the dwarf, no one saw. He scooped the coins up before anyone could realize what had happened.

No1 observed the snow floating from the sky. Surely, nothing of this sort had ever befallen Hybras. His eyes scanned the gray, snow-dotted heavens in clear awe. He nearly ran into the building because he wasn't paying too much attention to where he was going.

"We're here!" Foaly announced, throwing off his cam-foil as he came through the door.

"And there's fluffy white stuff falling from the sky!" No1 added excitedly.

"It's called snow! How many times do I need to tell you?!" Mulch groaned, obviously annoyed.

"Welcome, friends. Come in and warm yourselves by the fire," Artemis said, sounding as if he had rehearsed his small bit of dialogue many times.

"Don't mind if I do!" Mulch cried eagerly, "It's freezing out there, if you haven't already noticed." He hurried further into the manor, flinging his gloves on the floor and tracking snow inside.

"Sorry," Holly apologized, picking Mulch's gloves off the floor, "Mulch has been acting like that ever since we left Haven."

"No need to apologize, Holly," Artemis said, holding up his hand, "The snow will melt in time."

"And then it will evaporate into water vapor," Foaly butted in, "And then it will condense back into water. And _then_…"

"That's enough, Foaly," Holly said

But Foaly kept going, "And _then_ it will melt _again_…"

"Foaly!" Holly cried. "That's enough!"

"Geez, why didn't you just say so?" Foaly snorted, trotting into the hall.

Holly slapped her forehead. "Every time," she groaned, "Every time he goes into one of his extensive scientific speeches, he almost never stops until he's finished."

"Exactly," No1 agreed, "And this one would _never_ have ended."

Butler had gotten a fire going in the fireplace and was now feeding a few twigs into it. Mulch stood nearby, watching. He bent and picked up a branch. Grinning, he tossed it into the flames. The blaze flared up, nearly burning Butler.

"What was that for?" Butler asked.

"It wasn't big enough." Mulch stated. "Dwarf fires are _always_ bonfires; _big_ bonfires. You can't expect a puny candle flame like _that_ to heat a room!"

"Oh, really?" Butler growled, "We'll see what you can do, dwarf."

"Oh," Mulch growled back, "It's on, mud man."

The two darted outside to build bonfires. They gathered as many branches as possible and set to work stacking them into impressive shapes and sizes.

While they did that, the slightly more sane people were inside discussing things. Juliet had joined them and was also talking happily. After a few minutes, a rather strange topic came up: their own book series.

"What is up with that Colfer guy?" Foaly asked. "He knows _exactly_ what we did. He even knows what we were _thinking_! No one's safe!" He dove behind a chair and peered out at the rest of them. "What if he knows what we're thinking _right now_?" he asked shakily.

"Yeah, it is weird," Juliet said. Then, she turned to Foaly. "Besides, a chair won't protect you from an all-knowing super-author." Foaly yelped and moved the chair as close to the nearest wall as possible without squishing himself behind it.

"We can still see you, Foaly," Artemis pointed out. He grinned as Foaly tried to make himself smaller. "Besides," Artemis continued, "If he did know everything, we would have been swarmed by demented enthusiasts by now."

Foaly looked around for a minute, as if expecting the aforementioned "demented enthusiasts" to appear out of nowhere. Climbing unstably from behind the chair, Foaly nodded. "I guess you're right," he said.

"Yeah, he couldn't have gotten _all_ the facts correct," Holly said, chuckling nervously and glancing sideways at Artemis, "I mean; he wasn't _stalking_ us or anything, right?"

"Holly's right," Artemis said, acting rather like Holly was. "Colfer had to have guessed _sometimes_. Our thoughts, for example, can't be heard by others. We weren't speaking them out loud."

Juliet gave the two a strange look. "Anyway," she said, "He _is_ rather creepy, that Colfer guy; knowing the whole enchilada (_I like the sound of that_). Everything matched with what our experiences were."

"You read those books?" No1 asked, shocked.

"Yeah," Juliet answered. "It was interesting, reading about what was going on without me. Besides, what happened at…?"

Mulch burst into the room, stopping Juliet from finishing her sentence, much to the relief of Holly and Artemis. "Come outside," he said excitedly, "The bonfires are ready!" The dwarf left the room hurriedly.

Everyone got their coats, hats, and gloves on and walked out after Mulch. They were greeted with the heat and light of ten to fifteen bonfires. Each one was shaped into something. On Mulch's side, there were rabbits and dwarves and bones. On Butler's side, fierce dogs, aliens, and bears stood. Each branch-statue was covered in bright flames.

"Wow," Holly breathed.

"You said it," Juliet murmured. "I wonder if this is visible from space."

"It very well could be," Foaly answered. "It's so bright."

"Hey, I know!" Mulch exclaimed, "We could sing!" Mulch proceeded to do so in a scratchy voice, "You better watch out, you better not cry, you better not pout, I'm telling you why: Santa Claus is gonna eat you. He's made a recipe, checking it twice; gonna find out who's tasty or gross. Santa Claus is gonna eat you. He sees you when you're meaty, he knows when you are ripe, he knows if you taste bad or good, so taste bad for goodness sake!"

Artemis stopped him. "That's enough, Mulch."

"Yeah, let's sing a real Christmas carol," Foaly stated. "God rest ye merry, gentlemen," Foaly sang, slightly off-key, "Let nothing you dismay. Remember Christ our savior was born on Christmas Day, to save us all from Satan's power when we were gone astray. Oh, tidings of comfort and joy, comfort and joy, oh, tidings of comfort and joy."

Juliet clapped. "Bravo, Foaly." She said, "Now it's _my_ turn." She thought for a while until a song came to her. "Grandma got run over by a reindeer, walking home from our house Christmas Eve," she chirped. "You can say there's no such thing as Santa, but as for me and grandpa, we believe.

"She'd been drinking too much eggnog, and we begged her not to go. But she forgot her medication, and she staggered out the door into the snow. When we found her Christmas morning, at the scene of the attack, she had hoof-prints on her forehead and incriminating Claus marks on her back.

"Now we're all so proud of grandpa, he's been taking this so well. See him in there watching football, drinking root beer and playing cards with Cousin Mel. It's not Christmas without Grandma, all the family's dressed in black and we just can't help but wonder: Should we open up her gifts, or send them back? Send them back!

"Now the goose is on the table and the pudding made of fig and the blue and silver candles that would just have matched the hair on grandma's wig. I've warned all my friends and neighbors. Better watch out for yourselves, they should never give a license to a man who drives a sleigh and plays with elves."

"Excuse me?" Holly asked.

"What?" Juliet said defensively, "It's part of the song."

"I know a song," Butler said quietly. "I'm dreaming of a white Christmas, just like the ones I used to know." He sang in a deep voice. "Where the treetops glisten and children listen to hear sleigh bells in the snow.

"I'm dreaming of a white Christmas with every Christmas card I write. May your days be merry and bright and may all your Christmases be white."

"Okay, Artemis," Juliet giggled, "Now_ you_ do one."

"Me?" Artemis stuttered, "I don't think I could."

"Come on," Foaly said, "Get into the Christmas mood!"

"Foaly, really, I can't!" Artemis countered.

It seemed no amount of convincing would get Artemis to budge. Suddenly, Holly piped up, "Here, let me help."

She thought silently for a minute, and finally came up with something. "Gentle Mary laid her child lowly in a manger," she softly sang, "There he lay, the undefiled, to the world a stranger. Such a babe in such a place, could he be the savior?"

Artemis listened to her quiet voice for a time, and then eventually joined in. As he did so, Holly quieted and stopped altogether before long. "Ask the saved of all the race who have found his favor."

Mulch poked one of Butler's branch-statues with a twig. The whole thing collapsed in a giant cloud of sparks and flaming debris. Everyone covered their heads and hurried inside.

"Merry Christmas?" Mulch said uncertainly once inside.

"That wasn't much of a good present, Mulch," Juliet grumbled, "We could have gotten burned. Seriously."

"How was I supposed to know it was going to collapse?!" Mulch snapped.

"Mulch, I outta knock you out and leave you in the snow to freeze!" Juliet snapped back.

Holly stepped between the two. "That's enough," she said. "Mulch didn't know the thing would collapse and shoot flaming branches at us. Although he probably shouldn't have been touching it in the first place."

Mrs. Fowl entered the room. "Does anyone want hot chocolate?" she asked sweetly.

Mulch glared at Juliet. "You may have won _this_ round," he growled, "But I _will _be back. Maybe after they stop giving me hot chocolate, or tomorrow, or next week, or next year; I _will_ return for my revenge!"

"Okay, whatever, Mulch," Juliet said, watching him disappear into the kitchen.

Merry Christmas, good people!

_I wonder if Mulch will actually get his revenge. We'll have to wait until they stop giving him hot chocolate, tomorrow, next week, or next year to find out, I suppose. May all your Christmases be white!_


End file.
